The Truth
by nanimotienen
Summary: Cinnamon deals with the aftermath of a mission gone...odd. C/R


Disclaimer: I don't own The Hardy Boys (Franklin W

Note: Originally posted as _happychica._

_You want the truth? Alright, here it is._

Cinnamon sighed for the hundredth time since she'd gotten home. What had started out as another routine mission had ended quite differently. Once again, she was supposed to play the wife, a role she could perform in her sleep by now. This time she was 'married' to Rollin, something she was also used to. She preferred it being one of the team anyway; being 'married' to someone you've never met can be quite aggravating.

The mission had been going normally, everything right on schedule. Then one of the men, the president of the weapons company they were supposed to shut down, had noticed something. _No couple gets along as well as you two do, are you sure you're real?_ He'd been joking, but for safety's sake, they'd decided that when the guards showed up to 'arrest' Rollin, he and Cinnamon would be ending a fight, with Rollin going 'out'. It had worked out better than they thought, giving Cinnamon a concrete reason to want to see her 'husband'. _It was a foolish fight. Please, let me see him, just one more time._

But the 'fight' had gotten out of hand. They'd both gotten so carried away, they'd crossed the line into an actual fight. Cinnamon couldn't remember who started it, but somehow it had turned into a honest lover's spat. Maybe only pretending to be involved so deeply with someone was starting to grind, just a little. Maybe because it had taken so long to think up something to fight over that would sound real. Maybe because he'd looked so damn good for so long. Whatever it was, Cinnamon had launched into a tirade about feeling unloved, used, the whole bit, finally yelling: _Do you love me, really love me, or was this some fling, another notch on your belt?_

_You want the truth? Alright, here it is._

Somehow, Cinnamon didn't think she was the only one who forgot about the mission during that fight. Determination flaring in his blue eyes, Rollin had closed the space between them two strides, grabbed her by the shoulders, and kissed her. Hard.

And now here she was, sitting on her couch, in the middle of a thunder storm, worrying about some boy. Cinnamon felt like a school girl, the kind she'd never been. Boys had always flocked to her, leaving her to pick and chose as she wished. But now it was reversed. She was the quite girl, hoping _that boy_ would notice her, but too afraid to make the first move.

_This is ridiculous_, thought Cinnamon, _it's _Rollin_! We've known each other for years. Just go ask him if he meant it!_ Courage wound up, Cinnamon stood, grabbing her coat as she moved towards the front door. Yanking it open, Cinnamon stopped. On her door step, soaked to the bone, was Rollin.

"Hey." One word. Just one silly, little word, and she knew. He'd forgotten too.

"Hey." The two stared for a moment, both unsure what to do. Cinnamon felt a sharp kick from the back of her mind. _Invite him in, genius!_ "Would you like to come in?"

"Yes," came the reply. Catching himself, Rollin stumbled out an explanation. "Because it's raining and…uh, yeah. I'm cold." Cinnamon laughed, breaking the tension between them.

"I'll make some tea."

When Cinnamon returned, Rollin was still standing nervously on her door mat, suit dripping quietly. "Daddy's not home, you can relax." Rollin laughed, moving to stand next to the couch.

"You…wouldn't happen to have anything dry I could borrow?"

"Just a minute." Standing, Cinnamon made her way to a hallway closet. She fished out an old suit of her father's, noting absentmindedly that it would probably be a bit big on her guest. "Will this due?"

"It'll be fine." Taking the suit, Rollin disappeared into the bathroom to change. Cinnamon made her way back to the couch, stirring her tea gently. Suddenly, the voice in her mind came roaring back to life. _There's a guy, in my house, and he's _not_ dressed!_ "Shut up!" _Well, it's true._ "I am not arguing with myself." _No, but part of you is in denial because the guy isn't your father. _"Shut up." _And he's hoooot! _"Shut up!"

"I didn't say anything." Cinnamon snapped up, blinking uncomprehendingly at Rollin. _Hn, suit fits good. _Silently squashing the voice, Cinnamon smiled at her guest.

"I know, I…do you want some tea?"

"Alright." As Rollin dropped lightly onto the couch next to her, Cinnamon swore she could hear someone snicker.

"Do you take it with anything?"

"Not usually."

The two sat on her couch, quietly drinking their tea, each lost in thought. _Kiss him_. Cinnamon blinked. _You know you want to._ Apparently, the only way to shut the voice up was to prove it wrong or give in. Cinnamon wasn't sure which she wanted to happen. Setting her tea down, she turned towards her guest. "Rollin-"

She was cut off by a pair of lips on hers. After a moment of shock-induced paralysis, Cinnamon closed her eyes and kissed him back. _Ha, told ya._ _'Shut up.'_

_fin_

A/N: That's it. I rather like it.


End file.
